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Bean:Ish?
Me:Don’t freak.
Bean:You’re scaring me, Liv.
Me:I surprised an intruder. I have a hairline fracture to my cheekbone and will have surgery in the morning on my leg.
Bean:What the fuck?
Bean:That’s not okay-ish. That’s… hell, the opposite of okay.
Me:You sitting down?
Bean:No. Do I need to be?
Bean:Yeah.
Me:He stabbed Kyle first.
Bean:…
Bean:…
Bean:I’m afraid to ask.
Me:I wouldn’t be okay-ish if I lost my boy.
Bean:Whew. So Kyle’s okay?
Me:He’s staying overnight at the clinic. I’m so not okay with that, but I can’t help him at home so I’m trying to consider this a lucky break.
Bean:Please fucking tell me you didn’t just call Kyle overnight after a stabbing and you in the hospital pre-surgery a lucky break.
Me:You know what I mean.
Bean:I do.
Bean:Pissed is easier than scared and you scared me!
Me:It was bad, Bean. I was scared.
Bean:Do I need to head your way?
I reluctantly dial her.
“Livy, what the hell? You scared the shit out of me. Do I need to book a flight? I can be there tonight. Tomorrow morning at the latest.”
“I’m okay. Promise. I lost my mind earlier, though. When Kyle—” I wait for the crack in my voice to subside. “He hurt Kyle,” I whisper, allowing the fear to come back and cling to me. “Sabine, I was so scared. I went all mama bear.”
“Rightfully so. I can’t imagine that sweet baby anything other than his bouncy, goofy self.”
“I never want to see him the way I did today.”
“I know you must’ve been… it doesn’t matter. He’s okay. He’s going to be okay. And you are too. Wait! Why are you having surgery on your leg?”
“I made sure he didn’t stab Kyle a second time.”
“You what?”
